


Out There

by Not_Monday



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-15 23:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18082823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Monday/pseuds/Not_Monday
Summary: Soulmate AU where everything your soulmate says about you tattoos itself on your hands.... this is less than ideal for Dick.  (ie. Dick and Jason's tumultuous relationship after the Lazarus pit tattoos itself on Dick's hands and weighs heavily on his mind.) Has themes of depression, anxiety, and self-esteem issues.





	1. Chapter 1

Dick had longed for his own soulmate ever since the moment his mother had sat him down before one of their shows and explained what the words across her and his father’s hands meant.

“It’s simple, my little bird, some people in the world have that one person they’re meant to be with. Someone who’s love will write itself across your hands so you will always know what you mean to them. These people can be friends or people who love each other like me and your father. One day, when you’re ready you will get your words too.” She had said as Dick looked up at her with stars in his eyes.

He spoke of nothing but meeting his soulmate for the rest of the week as his parents watched fondly.

* * *

 

After the accident, during his first scary nights at Wayne manor when Dick was learning how to live in such an expansive home and Bruce was learning how to be a parent, he would dream of his soulmate coming to find him. Convinced that they could feel his grief no matter how far away they were and would come to comfort him. That this was the moment his mother had spoken of.

That moment never came.

But he had found his rhythm with Bruce and Alfred. Though he and Bruce would never admit it, it took a small (massive) tantrum at some charity gala for Bruce to finally figure out how to look after him.

When Dick began his foray into vigilantism, it filled a hole he didn’t realize was there. Suddenly, he was flying through the sky with his family again. Leaping and running across roof tops, chasing after Bruce, and trying to bring some levity to his even more monotonous alter-ego. 

Of course, even their small family wasn’t perfect and that eventually chased him out of the manor to the Teen Titans and later across the river to Bludhaven. It was during this time that a new face joined the family.

Jason Todd was Bruce’s second ward, and it was not long before he too got tied up with the Wayne family’s extracurricular activities. Dick liked the boy and was secretly pleased that, even though he was gone, Bruce and Alfred wouldn’t be alone in the manor anymore (though his mind’s stinging whisper of _replacement_ was hard to ignore).   

Unfortunately, as quickly as the boy had burst into their lives, he was gone with nothing but destruction and regret left in his wake. Dick often feared that Bruce would never be the same.

As the years passed by, as he failed at relationships (platonic and romantic), as he struggled to live up to his own expectations, as he worked to make Bruce proud even when they weren’t speaking, he asked himself when the moment his mother spoke of would arrive. When would he be ready for the unshakeable bond of a soulmate? Surely, they should have come to him by now?

In his quietest moments, he worried that maybe the universe had decided he didn’t deserve a soulmate; a soulmate that he would only drag down with him.

* * *

 

It happened when he least expected it.

He was in between cases, having compartmentalized and locked away his most recent failures and traumas, just having a normal day eating cereal and watching Netflix in his apartment. When he felt a sharp, burning itch on his left hand, he ignored it and scratched at it absentmindedly.

Then he felt another.

And another.

He froze, breathe catching. Slowly, he turned over his left hand. There in dark black letters were words.

He had a soulmate.

He had a soulmate. He couldn’t even comprehend what they’d said about him. Too caught up in the actual appearance of words to focus on their meaning.  He didn’t know what to do! Who were they? How was he ever gonna find them? Had they met already?

He scrubbed his hand over his face and practiced the breathing Bruce had taught him so long ago.

Once he’d calmed down, he looked at his hand again. He felt ice in his veins.

**Selfish. Asshole. Pathetic.**

There spread across his hands were the words his mind whispered to him in the dark. Said by the one person who was supposed to be there for him always.

Dick let out a shaking breath, trying to calm the storm of feelings rushing through him. It must mean that his soulmate is a criminal. It’s clearly someone he’s put away either as a cop or Nightwing. It can’t be anyone he’s ever met before because they wouldn’t be saying those things about him…. Right?

_“Someone who’s love will write itself across your hands so you will always know what you mean to them.”_ He should’ve known it would be too good to be true for someone like him. It always was.

So Dick did what he did best — he shut it down. Locked it tight in a box in the corner of his mind and vowed never to think of them. If it was someone he’d put away, he didn’t want to know who and, if it was someone he knew…. Well then he just couldn’t bear to know who was secretly thinking of him this way.

* * *

 

Red Hood had been in Gotham for a couple of months before Bruce asked Dick to come home. Dick was more than happy to throw himself into another crisis anything to keep his mind off the words burning into his hands.

His first run in with the Red Hood leaves him playing bodyguard for a string of criminals as he tries to get them to the closest police station unharmed.

Their second run-in is much the same until Red Hood is distracted by the arrival of Batman and Robin allowing Nightwing to safely drop off the night’s crowd of criminals with the police.

It isn’t until their third encounter that Dick has a chance to actually speak with him.

Dick was crouched on top of a skyscraper towards the outskirts of the city, waiting for Bruce and Tim to give their hourly check in when he heard it. A slight crunch of footsteps behind him, something being unsheathed. Grabbing one of his escrima sticks he spun around to come face to face with the barrel of Red Hood’s gun.

 “What do you want with Gotham?” Dick asked, staring at the other vigilante. It was their first close encounter, Dick has never noticed how muscular the Red Hood was; broad shoulders, thick arms, and powerful legs. If this turned into a close combat situation, he would have to be careful.

“You’re so **oblivious** aren’t you?” Red Hood answered, releasing the safety on his gun. The modified voice was disconcerting, making Dick flinch; his hand twitched as he felt a familiar burn. “This isn’t about Gotham. This is about the ridiculous and ineffective moral code that Bat has enforced on all of you. This is about your crusade to save a damned city with band-aids. This is about the Batman being a heartless robot who isn’t saving anyone let alone himself. This is about you fucking flipping across rooftops like a **circus-freak** treating people’s lives like a game.”

Dick’s hand twitched again as another word burned into his skin. God, his soulmate had the worst timing. “Who’re you? Obviously, you’re from Gotham. Familiar with how the vigilantes around here work. Why’re you doing this? Why now?”

Red Hood just shook his head and laughed darkly, taking a few steps back but never looking away. “I have plans. All will be revealed in due time. But until then, stay out of my way. Go back to your precious city because, if you keep interfering with my plans, we’re gonna have problems, and you’ll be next on my list after the Bat.”

 Without another word, Red Hood dropped off the edge of the roof and into the night.

Dick let out a breath, tension draining out of his body. “Nightwing”. He startled as Bruce’s voice came over the comms. “Check in.”

“All-” He cleared his throat “All clear, B. You and Robin?”

“Clear.” He could hear the question at his hesitation in Bruce’s response.

“I’m good, B. Will check in in an hour. ”

He heard the comms go dead. Sighing again he looked at his hands, wondering what his soulmate had to say today, he spare a glance around the roof before pulling his gloves off to check. Nothing new on his left hand today, but on his right- he swallowed tightly.

There, nestled between **Coward** and **Liar** were two new words.

**Oblivious. Circus-Freak.**

It was too specific to be coincidence. His soulmate is the Red Hood. The murderous vigilante wreaking havoc across Gotham, who has injured Dick and his family members multiple times, is his soulmate.  He doesn’t know who’s behind that helmet, but they clearly have history. These words are not the words of some angry stranger but of someone who once knew him.

Ever since he was a boy, he’d waited and hoped for his soulmate. A bright light waiting to pull him from Gotham’s ever growing darkness. Now he could picture those sure hands reaching out to him, strong arms wrapping around him, and pulling him close. But it didn’t matter.

It’s the first night he goes home, looks at his hands, and cries.

* * *

 

Dick starts to fall out of rhythm after that, tense and nervous for whatever word will appear next. Desperately hoping it will provide a clue to the Hood’s identity and fearing what it will do to him.

So he starts to pull back. Letting Batman and Robin take the brunt of Red Hood’s activity, choosing instead to skirt along the edges cleaning up the rest of the city. He knows Bruce wants to ask. Dick worries that he might be letting him down, but he cannot face anymore of the Red Hood’s words. If sticking to the outskirts will lessen the words burning into his hands he’ll take whatever disappointment Bruce has for him.

The box that he had tucked all those feelings of shame and sadness away in has been blown wide open and he’s not sure he can get it closed again if he has to face Red Hood anytime soon.

As the weeks tick by and the conflict carries on, he can sense Bruce’s growing concern at his withdrawal. Dick knows that every time Tim calls him to come to the manor and hang out it’s because Bruce has prodded him to. Trying, in his own way, to make sure his boys are alright.

When this all blows over, Dick tells himself, he’ll show Bruce his hands. Tell him who his soulmate is. But he can’t right now not when that would draw him right back into trouble, with an extra-large target on his back. It’s like his soulmate said, **selfish**.

* * *

 

_Jason._ Jason is alive.

He’s alive.

He’s alive and he’s the Red Hood.

He’s alive, he’s the Red Hood, he hates Dick, and he’s his soulmate.

When Bruce tells him, Dick feels like he’s suddenly underwater. He can hear Bruce speaking to him but none of it is making any sense. He can’t breathe. He feels himself sink to the floor, but he can’t calm the racing thoughts in his head enough to respond to Bruce who is still trying to speak to him.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there before he comes back to himself.  He knows Alfred and Tim have both come and gone and that Bruce settled next to him on the floor what feels like eons ago.

“None of this is your fault.” Bruce suddenly says, startling Dick out of his head. He stares at him.

“Not my fault? He died because I wasn’t there. _I didn’t even know_. Now he’s back and he hates me, how is that not my fault?”

Bruce fixes him with a level stare. “Through all of the events of the past year, I never got the impression that he held any grudges beyond those he held for me. Unless you know something I don’t?” He says arching an eyebrow, as always fishing for any information he might be missing.

Dick swallows, trying not to stare at his hands. “No. No, there’s nothing.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

“Then he’ll come around, Dick. You boys will work it out.” Bruce says quietly, he stands offering him a hand “Now let’s get you upstairs, Alfred wants to feed you before you go home.”

Maybe they could work it out Dick thinks, if he wasn’t such a **coward**.

* * *

 

Beginning to work with Jason proves an even more arduous task than any of them anticipated. There’s the lingering tension between Bruce and Jason, the rocky relationship between Tim and Jason, Jason’s explosive temper that they’ve learned was only enhanced by the Lazarus Pit, and then the fact that Dick disappears from any room Jason enters within minutes unless a mission briefing is going on.

Despite these issues, they somehow make it work. Sharing resources and calling on each other for help when necessary.

It goes like that for months. Dick returns to Bludhaven full-time and begins the grueling task of cleaning up the crime that had moved in during his time in Gotham. He only turns up at the manor when Bruce calls for help but, quickly and quietly excuses himself from any interactions with Jason.

All goes to plan until one day when Dick is just a little too out of it. He’s been running on fumes for day trying to tie up the last few loose ends of a drug lord he put away. Tonight, he had cleared one of their remaining compounds faster than expected and is looking forward to crashing into his bed for a few hours before taking out the next one tomorrow night.

On his way home, his night takes a turn when he runs into Jason. It was so unexpected that if he hadn’t literally bumped into him he would have thought that he was hallucinating from exhaustion. Plastering a grin on his face, he waves.

“Hey Red, what brings you over here?”

“I’m wrapping up a case, Nightwing. Don’t really have time to chat.” Jason says moving passed him.

Dick sighs quietly, trying not to be relieved at the short interaction.

“Alright, well if you need any help, I know this place like the back of my hand”. He offers, just in case.

Jason turns to look at him. Somehow Dick can feel the judgment radiating off him even through the blank visor of his helmet. He shrinks back a little.

“Thanks for the offer” Jason bites out “But I don’t need help from an **arrogant** **jerk** who would clearly rather I’d stayed dead.”

Dick’s breath catches, but before he can say another word the other man is gone disappearing into the night.

_Stayed dead._

Jay thinks he’s avoiding him because he’d rather he’d stayed dead.  The mere thought of Jason not being around again has Dick pushing down a wave of panic.

That’s when the rest of his night falls apart.

It starts with a bad leap across a rooftop as he dodges a shooter. He’s so tired. He misses the landing and barely manages to curl his fingertips around the edge of the roof.  As he’s pulling himself up from the ledge of the building onto the roof, he feels pain blossom in his right shoulder. The shooter is getting closer. A second shot hits his shoulder and he feels his right arm give way. Only gripping the edge with one hand he tries using his legs to help pull himself up, when a third shot lodges itself in his left thigh.

Then he’s falling.

* * *

 

Jason is not having a good day. He had to chase a human trafficking ring all the way to Bludhaven and then he wasn’t even able to make it in and out without bumping into Grayson, who has been a grade A jerk ever since he’s come back. Ever since he’d been unmasked, Dick is like a ghost, disappearing whenever Jay shows up.

“That’s fine”, Jay thought, “if he wants to pretend I’m still dead more power to him. I don’t need him or any of them. “

He’s cutting through an alley back to his bike, trying to avoid whatever fire fight is currently happening across the rooftops, not his problem, when Grayson literally drops to the ground in front of him.

It’s not the light-footed acrobatic landing Jason has always come to expect from Dick. In fact, it’s not much of a landing at all, he just hit the ground like a pile of skin and bones.

Jason waits a beat.

Something’s wrong.

“He’s not moving,” Jason thinks.

 “ _He’s not moving”_ his mind whispers again.

He closes his eyes breathing deeply, “Fuck”. He has a case to wrap up, loose ends to tidy and this is only gonna cost him time.

Even through his frustration, he’s gentle as he moves to look Dick’s wounds over. Rolling the older man onto his front he can see that the shot to the back of his leg doesn’t look like it’s hit anything too important and the bleeding has slowed down there so he focuses his attention on the two shots to his shoulder.

He reaches his hand to Dick’s chest feeling for exit wounds. None. He stops to reassess, does he remove the bullets here and patch him up or hope that the bullets will help slow the bleeding down long enough for him to move him?

Looking at the alley around him, he groans. He shouldn’t be doing any kind of field surgery here. He hastily bandages Dick’s leg and does a rough bandaging of his shoulder hoping it will last to the closest safe house.

Thanking whoever’s out there that Dick’s still passed out, from pain? Blood loss? Concussion when he hit the ground? Well, whatever it is it keeps him from worrying about jostling him too much as he picks him up in a fireman’s carry and starts heading for his bike again.

Once he has Dick in the safe house, Jason wastes no time stripping off his suit and getting to work on his shoulder.  It’s a simple enough patch up now that he has access to all of his first aid supplies and has hopefully lessened the risk of infection by moving him.

Dick has only groggily stirred twice throughout the whole process, though Jason is pretty sure that if he doesn’t have a concussion it could be he’s just passed out from exhaustion. The lights in the safe house are doing nothing to hide the bags and dark circles under his eyes. He’s clearly been running on empty, probably how he got into this situation in the first place.

It’s not until he’s rinsing all the dried blood off Dick with a washcloth, that he notices all the markings across his hands.

So, Dick finally has a soulmate. He looks at his own hands, his words had come in few and far between though he hasn’t really spared them much thought. He would never want to saddle his soulmate with a walking disaster like him.

Dick, though, has always wanted a soulmate. He would wax poetic about them to Jason for what used to feel like hours, telling him everything his mom had ever told him about them.  No matter what they’re relationship may be, he’s glad Dick finally got what he always wanted.

He’s been staring at Dick’s hands rather absent-mindedly before it suddenly clicks what word he’s looking at. **Selfish.**  His brow furrows. He reads another. **Coward.** And another. **Pathetic. Liar. Asshole. Arrogant.**

He feels his temper rising. What. The. Fuck.

In what universe does Golden Boy Dick Grayson get saddled with a piece of trash soulmate who has  burned vile words into his hands? Jason is murderous, he tries to control his breathing.

He looks down and rips the gloves off his own hands, staring at the words there. **Loved. Kind. Intuitive. Determined. Brave.**

How could he deserve such nice words while Dick got poison?

* * *

 

Warm afternoon light and the sound of traffic outside wake Dick. He comes to with a gasp, trying to sit up quickly and immediately falling back against whoever’s couch he’s on when his shoulder starts protesting.

Looking around the room, it’s a basic studio apartment with only the couch he’s on and coffee table next to him as furniture. His suit is folded on top of the table next to his mask and escrima sticks along with a pile of street clothes, with no other signs of whose “home” this is.

Leaning back he listens intently, trying to determine if there’s anyone else in the apartment with him.

When he doesn’t hear anything he pushes himself up into a sitting position.

He’s contemplating putting his suit back on when he hears someone at the door, reaching forward he grabs one of the sticks and pushes himself to a standing position, ignoring the flare of pain in his thigh and shoulder.

The doorknob rattles a few more times and he hears the man on the other side curse quietly before pushing it open.

He braces himself, gripping his weapon a little tighter. He feels a wave of relief when he realizes its Jason coming through the door, dropping the stick to the floor as he lets the tension drain out of him.

Jason starts when he sees him, “What’re you doing? Why the fuck are you standing up? Sit down.”

Dick smiles tightly, feeling the pain he had pushed off before “I’m fine, Jay, doesn’t even hurt that bad.” The look Jason gives him has him moving to sit back down as he speaks.

“Dick, you fell off a building with three gunshot wounds. Don’t lie to me. I’m glad you’re awake though, I have a case I need to wrap up and don’t want stay in this hell hole of a city any longer than I have to. Do you want me to take you back to your place or call Alfred to come get you? I’m ditching this safe house now anyways.”

“If you could just help me get back to my apartment. I’m sure you patched me up just fine, no need to worry Alf. ” He says, reaching for the clothes on the table. He stops, staring at his outstretched hand.

Stares at the uncovered marks, bright and stark in contrast against his skin. _He’s seen them._ He must’ve –

Jason’s staring at Dick’s hands now too. “Do you know who they are?” He asks angrily.

Dick nods, moving to grab the clothes again, hurriedly getting dressed.

“Do they know?” He shakes his head.

Jason’s outrage is palpable. “Why’re you just letting them say that shit about you? Surely, they’ll stop if you tell them!”

Dick pauses as he pulls on his shirt, “I can’t put that burden on them. It’ll eat them alive.”

“And what its doing to you?” Jason asks. “Is that worth it?”

Dick stiffly collects the rest of his things, avoiding Jay’s eyes. “I’m fine. And if all I can do is keep that weight off their shoulders then that’s what I’ll do. I won’t hurt them.” And before he can stop himself, he mutters “Look, I appreciate your help and your concern but you don’t even like me so I’m pretty sure this discussion is moot.”

“I don’t like you?” Jason asks incredulous “You’re the one who can’t stand to be in a room with me any longer than physically necessary.”

“Jay, I let you down. I should have been there. I should have saved you. But I didn’t. And I understand that. You have every right to be upset but, let’s not pretend like you’ve forgiven us – me for everything that’s happened.”

Jason frowns. “Dick-”

He stops him before he can say more, “Can you just help me get home, Jay? Please” He asks tiredly.

Jason nods “Yeah, c’mon”

Dick’s shoulders sag with relief. He can’t talk about this anymore today. He’s tired, he hurts, and he doesn’t have the energy to figure out what’s really going on in Jason’s head right now.

 “I have a lot of anger, Dick” Jason says as he helps him into his apartment. “About what happened to me and about how it was handled. I’ve said a lot of things about you and Bruce and I meant them.” He helps him settle on the couch before finishing “But that doesn’t mean they were always true. And I never hated you. Not you.”

Before Dick can respond, Jason’s gone.

* * *

 

Dick doesn’t see him again for quite some time after that. Although, he misses him it’s probably for the best because he has no idea how to respond to their last conversation.

Dick is out of commission for a while as he heals and when he’s finally back on his feet he’s working non- stop to track down a serial killer who’s taken up residence. From what he hears from Bruce, Jason hasn’t been seen in Gotham recently but his last known location was Santa Prisca.

He’s staking out a building, waiting for his suspect to show up when it happens the first time. A warm tingling sensation spreads across his right hand, startled he stops.

He takes off his glove there on his hand is a new word. **Smart.**

He hasn’t had any new words appear for several months. He’s not sure what’s more disconcerting that its appearance wasn’t accompanied by the normal burning itch or that it was kind. Confused, he writes it off as fluke. But he can’t ignore it for long.

New words start appearing more frequently after that. Each time startling him out of whatever he’s doing to stare at them in confusion.

**Compassionate.  Sincere. Humble. Generous.**

Dick’s not sure what to make of the new words, he’s not even sure how he feels about them. He wants to be happy, finally his soulmate is speaking about him fondly, with words he’d always hoped for.

But is it real?

Jason hasn’t seen him since the night he was injured, how could his opinion of him have changed so drastically?

Is it pity? Maybe he’s holding his tongue because he knows now what words Dick’s been given.

Dick doesn’t dare let himself hope that he means them. So he stops looking at them. Whenever a new one appears, he doesn’t look and whenever he does look at his hands he focuses on the words he knows are real. No matter how much they hurt.  

Jason said the things he said about Dick weren’t true. But Dick knows better. He recognizes the aspects of himself that he always thought others couldn’t see written on his hands.

* * *

 

Almost a year later, Dick is in Gotham. He’s patrolling with Tim while Bruce meets with the Justice League.

It’s a pretty quiet evening, almost alarmingly quiet for Gotham, so Dick sends Tim back early. Hopefully, he’ll get a good night’s sleep for once.

Dick was sitting on top of a skyscraper towards the outskirts of the city, taking a break, when he heard it. A slight crunch of footsteps.

He tenses.

“Dick”

He whips his head around, there still half shrouded in shadows is Jason. He’s in his body armor, leather jacket, and mask, but the helmet is nowhere to be seen.  A tightness in Dick’s chest, which he’d never noticed before, loosens at seeing Jason alive and well.

“Jay” He breathed “Are you back? Or just passing through?” Dick asked.

“I’m back” Jason answers, strolling forward. “Just got in today, thought I’d see how patrol was going”

Jason moves to sit next to him.   

They sit in silence, staring out over the city.

“I was traveling” Jason says suddenly “With Roy and Kory. Finally, really trying to get my head on straight… after… well after everything.”

Dick smiles gently, looking up at him slightly. “That’s great, Jason.”

Jason opens his mouth, closes it, frowns slightly and looks away.  Dick watches as he lets out a frustrated huff before turning back towards him.

“I- I haven’t been very fair to you, Dick. I let myself get carried away with revenge and anger. I poked, prodded, and exploited all the vulnerabilities I knew you had just to get you out of the way so I could handle Bruce. I’m sorry for that.”

Dick reaches out, patting one of Jason’s hands. “It’s okay, you explained last time. You don’t have to apologize.”

Jason looks at him sharply then. “I have to apologize Dick. Because you need to know that the things I said, the things your shithead soulmate is out there saying, are not true. It eats me up inside that you might believe the garbage we’ve said about you.”

Dick shrugs looking at his gloves. “I’ll be alright, Jason. I always am.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be.”

Dick doesn’t answer, looking away, out across the city.

“I wish you would tell them” Jay says quietly “You shouldn’t have to suffer through this.”

Dick stands suddenly, grinning brightly down at him “You’re **sweet** , Jay. But it’s none of your concern. Now, help me finish my patrol.”

Without waiting for a response, he turns and leaps into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Jason hadn’t lied when he told Dick he’d been with Roy and Kory, he just left out that most of the time, he’d been on his own.

He’d traveled the world, selectively working as a mercenary to make ends meet.  He’d spent time getting his head on straight, tamping down his anger.

He’d even dedicated time to trying to untangle the complicated mess of feelings he had whenever he thought of Dick or Bruce.  

While Jason wasn’t sure he could ever truly forgive Bruce he at least felt he’d reached a place where he could stand to be in the same room as him without feeling constant anger bubbling under the surface.

Sorting out his feelings for Dick was surprisingly difficult, Jason had used him as a pawn. He’d played on the insecurities he knew Dick struggled with, anger making Jason even believe they were true.  Reconciling those actions with the actual care and admiration he felt for the other man was… a struggle.

Even once those feelings had been sorted, he still felt off because of Dick’s soulmate. Jason had an explainable need to figure out who it was. To try to …..save him? Rescue him? Neither of those words felt right, Dick didn’t need to be rescued or saved by anyone. He just needed some help, someone to reach out and pull him back into himself.

Thinking back on his first return to Gotham he could see clearly the facade Dick had been putting on. He was closed off and tense, not the stupid ray of sunshine Jason had known growing up.

Looking at Dick now, Jason wouldn’t even suspect they’d ever been the same person. Dick’s stupid soulmate had eclipsed him.

Jason had had enough and as much as he hated to admit it, he was gonna need help to sort it out.

His first stop when he got back in town was Bruce. As much as he loathed to admit it, if anyone already knew what was going on with Dick it would be Bruce and as soon as he found out Jason knew something he didn’t? Bruce wouldn’t rest until the story was unraveled.

He cornered a mildly surprised Bruce in the cave, clearly on his way out to patrol.

“I need your help.” Jason said with a frown, looking around. He didn’t really want the kid around for this. “Is the kid already on patrol?”

Bruce nodded, quirking an eyebrow.

Jason huffed, “It’s about Dick. I’m sure you’ve noticed something’s wrong. I’m just surprised it’s taken you so long to act on it”

Bruce watched him quietly, before turning to reach for the phone. “Dick?  I need you to patrol Gotham tonight with Tim.  Everything’s fine, but I’m needed at the watchtower.”

Hanging up the phone, he turned back to Jason. “Let’s talk. What do you know?”

Jason frowned. “I know that Dick has a soulmate, he got one sometime while I was… gone… I know that he hides the words on his hands almost religiously and I know why. What do you know?”

Bruce just stared at him impassively, Jason could feel his blood pressure rising. “Well? What do you know?”

Bruce turned, grabbing a well-worn folder out of his desk and handing it over. Of course, Bruce had a file on this.

“Just how many files do you have on all of us, Old Man?”

Jason took it and began rifling through it, flipping past pages of dates with changes in behavior listed on them, past a few press photos where partial words could be seen on Dick’s hands, before he found the pages at the back with names, crossed out and written over.

“I have as many files as necessary. Now, as you can see I have some theories about who it could be but I’ve never seen any of the words on his hands in their entirety. So why don’t you tell me why he hides them?”

Jason looked up in surprise “You don’t know?”

Bruce shook his head minutely.  “I have a guess.”

“Dick used to talk about getting his soulmate for hours, you never thought it was weird that as soon as his marks showed up he started hiding them and never told anyone?”

Bruce looked away. “Things were different after you died, Jason. It wasn’t something he would have shared with me at the time and I didn’t want to push him further away by prying”

Jason scoffed, waving the folder in his hand “And this isn’t prying? Did you ever stop to think that maybe prying would have kept him from getting this bad in the first place? Have you seen him Bruce? Really seen him? He’s sad. Somebody clipped his wings a long time ago and nobody’s done anything about it even though you clearly had suspicions abou-”

 “Jason.” Bruce interrupted gruffly. “What do the words say?”

Jason felt himself deflate. This was about Dick, he was here to help Dick. His thoughts on Bruce’s parenting methods could wait.

“They say awful things Bruce. **Oblivious. Circus-Freak. Selfish. Asshole.** And the list goes on.” He watched as Bruce turned away from him, shoulders tense with anger. “The worst part” he continued “is that Dick knows who they are and won’t tell them that they’re doing this to him.”

“How can I help?” Bruce asked tightly.

“Either talk to Dick and get him to tell you who they are and fix this or help me figure it out and shut it down cause that man is two steps away from boarding a train to self-destruction. Did he tell you about when I had to bandage him up in Bludhaven last year Bruce? He _missed_ a landing and got shot. The ‘Flying Grayson’ _fell._ Tell me that’s not a problem.”

With that, Jason turned on his heel and left. He needed to calm down. Bruce would contact him if he needed him.

He doesn’t stop when he hears Bruce let out a shaky breath behind him.

He doesn’t stop when he hears Bruce whisper a small prayer. He’d never known him to be a god-fearing man.

He doesn’t stop when he hears him whisper “You couldn’t let my son be happy?”

He doesn’t stop.

* * *

 

Jason had every intention of finding some criminals to take his anger out on until he saw Dick sitting on the roof of a building that night.

He finds himself scaling the fire escape and joining Dick as he looks out on the city. He tells himself it’s because he’s concerned, not sure how much damage the soulmate has done while he’s been gone. It’s not because he missed him.

It’s not.

When Dick takes off to finish his patrol, Jason follows behind slowly.

He forgets about the warm tingle of a new word burning itself into his hand as they’d talked. He never paid his own soulmate much mind anyways.

It isn’t until a few days later that he sees the new addition. **Sweet.**

**_“_ ** _You’re **sweet** , Jay. But it’s none of your concern. Now, help me finish my patrol.”_

He feels his breathing pick up, his hands are shaking as he stares at them.

It’s a coincide- He’s not- Dick would have told him if- Bruce would have known if it-

It can’t be him.

He didn’t do this.


	3. Chapter 3

After the initial shock had worn off, Jason lay in bed that night, a penitent man, whispering praise under his breath.

Tomorrow, he would confirm. Tonight, he would pray that he could overwrite what he’d already done.

It didn’t take him long to confirm his suspicions. It had almost been too easy, with how careful Dick had been about keeping his hands under wraps Jason had thought he would have been more careful with the praise and admiration he threw his way.

All it had taken was a carefully guided argument with the repla-, with Tim, and he’d been given all the proof he needed.

“Look Tim. I’m telling you whenever the temperature drops below a certain point I lose the communication signal in my helmet.”  Gesturing at the younger boy with his helmet.

Tim huffed, angrily snatching the helmet. “That is not how radio waves work, Todd. _Idiot.”_

“Tim” Came Dick’s voice from across the cave where he was talking to Bruce.

Tim spun on his heel to look at the older man. “That’s not how they work, Dick!”

“Be nice. Jason is **smart**. Look over the helmet, maybe the cold is affecting a coolant?”

Tim grabbed the helmet and stalked off to a workbench, not noticing the smug grin Jason was sporting. Under the guise of itching his palm, Jason carefully took off his right glove to look at the space by his thumb. He’d felt a warmth there as Dick spoke.

Feeling a rock settle in his stomach, he stared at the new word on his hand. **Smart.** His suspicions were right. Jason needed a new plan of action to fix this ASAP and before Bruce caught on. If he found out it was him before Dick was sorted out…

He needed to show Dick that the new words were true, that’d he’d been wrong, that none of that vile had ever been true.

He needed to fix this so they could be friends. After all that he’d done to the older man, he knew his heart couldn’t ever ask for more than that.

* * *

Dick had spent the years since his marks had showed up working hard to make sure that no one knew what they said or who was responsible for them. The day Jason had seen them had been a mistake. He’d hoped in the time Jason had been gone he would have forgotten them or lost interest in his plight. Of course, his first night back in town had proved that was not the case.

 

Despite the Jason’s inability to drop the subject, Dick was over the moon to have Jason back in town. No matter what the state of their relationship was, Dick preferred having Jason close by.

Not knowing where he’d been and whether or not he was safe had caused more grief than he’d anticipated. As much as he mistrusted the new words showing up on his hands, he’d been glad for them because it meant Jason was alive somewhere talking to someone.

Since that night on the roof, it was like Jason had never been gone. In fact, he was everywhere after that.

Dick was visiting the manor?

 Jason was already there talking to Bruce in hushed whispers.

Staking out a suspected trafficking ring?

Jason showed up on the same lead.

Patrolling in Gotham to help lighten Tim and Bruce’s workload?

Jason decided to help patrol too.

Trapped in a fight with some drug dealers?

Jason was there to pull him out.

And every time, he just looked at Dick with these sorrowful eyes, like he was trying to dissect Dick’s very being. It unnerved him and made him clutch his gloves a little tighter.

Even worse than Jason’s newfound ability to be everywhere Dick was, was the new sad eyes Bruce always looked at him with when he thought he wasn’t paying attention.

His father seemed to be heartbroken at the sight of him and Dick couldn’t figure out what could cause such an emotional response from the older man. The last time he’d given Dick that look had been when he’d broken his leg shortly after becoming Robin and had spent the whole night crying that he’d never be able to ‘fly’ again.  

Bruce had been distraught and had hired the best physical therapists in Gotham to make sure he would be able to continue with his gymnastics (and crime fighting) after he’d healed.

For the life of him, Dick could not figure out what he’d done now to warrant that look and he was too afraid of the answer to ask. What if he’d finally figured it out?

He knew it was a miracle that Bruce had yet to find out about the words, the idea that Bruce found out about them and hadn’t said anything or even worse found out about them and agreed was too much for him to bear.

Not knowing what to do about Bruce or Jason, Dick began avoiding the both of them as much as physically possible.

This proved to be relatively easy when it came to Bruce his father was already a very aloof man so add in the slightest bit of avoidance on his side and they never saw each other.

Jason, on the other hand, he couldn’t escape. Even when he wasn’t around he was writing his way across Dick’s hands.

Shortly, after his arrival in Gotham compliments and praise began spewing across his hands. Words that were repeated often just becoming deeper and bolder ( **Graceful.** ) while new ones took up opposition ( **Selfless** ) against the words that had long been worn into his skin.

Some days he didn’t know how the new words were finding space to appear.  

Maintaining his resolve to ignore the new words was starting to prove futile, but he still didn’t know how to process them.

Surely, they can’t be pity if there’s so many of them, but Jason cannot have changed his opinion of him so drastically. Jason was nothing if not set in his ways. Furthermore, the words showing up now just aren’t true.

His first set of words were all true. So many people said them about him, but he couldn’t say he’d ever heard any of these new words before.

_“Don’t be **selfish** , Dick. Gotham needs you.”_

_“I saw the new kid, Grayson, crying at lunch. **Pathetic**.”_

_“Can’t believe Wayne adopted a **Circus-Freak** ”_

_“Don’t be so **arrogant**. No one likes a know-it-all, Richie.”_

_“Dick, you’re such a **liar**. How could you not know it wasn’t me?”_

_“You’re a **jerk** and an **asshole** , you abandoned Roy when he needed you, Dick.”_

_“Oh-ho-ho Joke’s on you Batman! You’re little birdie’s nothing but a **coward**!”_

 


End file.
